


the hollow man

by hollowforest



Category: Enshadowed, Kelly Creagh, Nevermore - Fandom
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Oneshot, Second Person, So much angst, aaaaaaaaaangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowforest/pseuds/hollowforest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pinfeathers finds comfort in T. S. Eliot. Also one blonde cheerleader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the hollow man

You were once so hard to look at.

It hurt the eyes, constricted the pupils. That endless hollowness inside of me would reverberate around you, remind me that on the inside, I was empty, and you…

How couldn’t you fill that space?

You fit perfectly.

I told myself that it would be enough to be feared. Hated, despised as nothing more than a painful reminder. I was untouchable, unfeeling—

(Yes, he and I are two halves of one broken whole, aren’t we…?)

—but there you are, always, the pull of your gravity undeniable. And as memories slide down a porcelain partition, spilling into me, well, what am I supposed to do?

There’s what he wants, and there’s what she wants, and what I know I’m supposed to do, but this is how you affect me. My words tumble and spiral like a nautilus shell, one secret circling another, revealing everything as soon as I step away. Flame and moth, I have no choice but to crumble around you, the secret hidden in my black hole of a heart—

That you would hold to your promise, and I would be the only one left to keep it safe.

…Funny, that, isn’t it, cheerleader? The one you seek is the mirror standing right in front of you, but you simply lack the eyes to see his form.

How did this happen?

When did I become the one who would dash himself to pieces for a glimpse of you?

It’s as simple as sliding on a mask, as crawling over you and offering a mirage. And even though it isn’t me you see, it isn’t me you want, well, I suppose this is enough.

Because if there is to be no return from those desolate forests, perhaps a simulacrum would do. Maybe just this piece, instead of a broken, uncomprehending whole—would you, could you, but…

No.

You will always be able to tell the difference. I will never, ever be enough, so I’ll keep your secret here, coiled deep inside of me. 

Because this is what saves me from becoming a lost, violent soul and transforms me into a hollow man with one small hope:

You.


End file.
